


Slushie Facial

by Bdoing



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-11
Updated: 2012-12-10
Packaged: 2017-11-20 20:43:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/589441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bdoing/pseuds/Bdoing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was written between Season 1 and Season 2, and I guess is set at the beginning of Season 2. Mike may as well be an OC at this point, since he didn't really have any characterization in S1. I also haven't watched anything since the first few episodes of S2, so.</p><p>My brain's been bugging me to write more of this, despite not being part of the fandom at all, so this will probably eventually be finished.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It had been all of two weeks since Mike had confessed to Kurt that he was bi, and that Kurt was the reason that he knew. It had been sweet, Kurt had to confess, even though it was done via texting rather than face-to-face, which would have been better. Still, the medium gave Kurt a bit extra time to try and formulate a response, which ended up being a moot point.  
  
Mike: kurt u busy?  
  
Kurt: No, I’m just reading for English. What’s up?  
  
Mike: can i trust u to keep a secret  
  
Kurt: Of course. If it’s big enough, I’ll even delete the text so Cedes won’t find it.  
  
Mike: umm yes pls  
  
Mike: ive been doing a lot of thinking recently and i think that i like boys  
  
Mike: and girls i mean  
  
Mike: and well you specifically  
  
(Kurt’s planned text here was starting to form, but he couldn’t quite get it to sound better than just “Oh. Um, thanks?” - it wasn’t that he didn’t like the jock, or didn’t find him attractive, or wasn’t flattered; it was mostly that he expected this to be a cruel joke. There was no way that the cute dancing jock was into a skinny queen like Kurt.)  
  
Mike: listen i no u prolly dont no wat 2 say but how about this  
  
Mike: dinner thursday night? breadsticks? im buying  
  
Kurt: Ask me again tomorrow before school?  
  
Kurt’s finger hovered above the ‘Send’ button on his phone, unsure as to how Mike would take the admittedly curt text. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Mike, it was... well, okay, it was that he didn’t trust that it was Mike. He could see Puckerman swiping Mike’s phone while they were hanging out and trying to mess with the fag’s head.  
  
But if it was actually Mike... well, Kurt had to smile a bit. Admittedly, he didn’t know the quiet dancer very well, but he seemed to be a nice guy, and he couldn’t exactly complain about the eye candy. And having someone there for him who was both in Glee club and a fairly well-established jock at the school would probably help with the dumpster dives.  
  
He bit his lip and hit ‘Send’. It had almost been five minutes since Mike had suggested their date, and coming up on ten since he’d admitted his crush. Or, at least, since the texts apparently suggesting and admitting as such, Kurt corrected himself. There was no point in getting his hopes up prematurely.  
  
His phone buzzed, and he unlocked it to read the message.  
  
Mike: um sure thing. whens ur dumpster dive tmr?  
  
Kurt: They usually catch me around 8:05.  
  
Mike: ok so how bout 8:00 and far away from the dumpster? other entrance to the school with the ramp?  
  
Kurt had to smile, though he was a bit apprehensive -- if this was the jock clique playing some Neanderthal game du jour, he might be in for worse than a dumpster dive tomorrow. But he’d risk it.  
  
Kurt: Sure. See you then, Mike.  
  
He waited for a response for about half an hour, then pushed the conversation to the back of his mind to focus again on Orwell’s dystopian 1984. When his phone buzzed an hour later, he ignored it, not even registering who it might have been.  
  
When he checked it just before bed, his stomach clenched just a bit - not in a bad I’m-going-to-hit-something-hard-in-the-dumpster-this-time way, but in the sentimental way that it always did when he watched Love Actually.  
  
Mike: goodnight, princess peach. hope i dont need to look in another castle tmr. :)


	2. Chapter 2

It had been thirteen days since Kurt realized that he could definitely like Mr. Chang as well, even if he’d never really thought of the dancer in that light (well, more than a couple passing fantasies during soccer season and every time he was given the spotlight during a dance number, but that wasn’t really the “boyfriend” light).  
  
As Kurt pulled into the front parking lot the day after his conversation with Mike at 8:02, he jumped at the buzzing in his pocket.  
  
Mike: where r u?  
  
Kurt: I ran a bit late, sorry. I’ll be there in a couple minutes.  
  
He bit his lip as he pulled out of the admittedly-lucky parking space he’d managed to snag near the front entrance, and pulled out of the front parking lot into the alleyway towards the much-larger back lot, driving past the first loser of the day being tossed into the dumpster. Kurt didn’t look too hard - he didn’t want to risk being seen and have them chase him down - but he did see Puck’s bald head, and once the jock had joined Glee club, he’d made it known that only he was allowed to toss Kurt, as some sort of twisted protection.  
  
Maybe it actually was Mike.  
  
Mike: black navigator rite?  
  
Kurt checked his phone once he’d pulled into a parking spot (much further from the door, he thought grumpily), and smiled.  
  
Kurt: Yep. Stalking me, are we, Chang?  
  
Kurt turned off his baby, then busied himself in his bag sitting on the passenger seat, making sure he didn’t leave anything he’d need during the day (but didn’t take anything he didn’t need), only breaking when his phone buzzed in its position on his lap.  
  
Mike: turn around  
  
Kurt raised an eyebrow and turned to look out the driver’s-side window, expecting to see Mike’s face there, and scowled a little when the window remained empty.  
  
Kurt: Clearly, you don’t know how to fake-stalk someone.  
  
His finger pressed the ‘Send’ button as he turned back around, and he jumped - and, though he’d never admit it later, he jumped at Mike’s smirk outside the passenger-side window. His pulse racing, he reached over and unlocked the door. Mike took that as an indication to come in, and sat in the passenger seat once Kurt moved his bag.  
  
“Nice car.”  
  
“Nice stalking.” Kurt retorted, the smirk on his face not quite matching the ice-queen exterior he was trying so hard to portray.  
  
“I knew you’d be expecting me to be on that side, so...” Mike was grinning from ear to ear, but Kurt could see, out of the corner of his eye, his leg bouncing up and down uncontrollably. The boy was definitely nervous, even if only that one limb was really betraying him.  
  
Kurt smiled and shook his head. “Just so long as you don’t start watching me as I sleep, I’m cool, Chang.” Seeing the wince on Chang’s -- Mike’s face, Kurt quietly corrected himself. “I’m good, Mike.”  
  
They sat in a fairly comfortable silence for a couple minutes, leaning back again the rather comfortable seats.  
  
“So, um.”  
  
Kurt looked up and opened his eyes, not even noticing that he’d closed them. “I didn’t expect to be this comfortable around you, Ch--Mike.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“Well, I don’t really know you as well as-- well, as well as I’d like to. And I always kind of lumped you in with the rest of the Neanderthals on the football team, I guess, even though you’re in Glee.”  
  
“Oh.”  
  
Kurt looked over to see Mike biting his lip, obviously trying very hard not to betray how hurt he was by that. “Lumped. Past tense. I can’t exactly say that I do anymore, now can I, Mario?”  
  
The hurt left Mike’s face as his mouth widened into a grin at the reference to last night’s text. “I guess not. So, um.”  
  
“Mmm?” Kurt let himself lie back in the seat again and let his eyes close, a slight smile playing over his face. He really was comfortable with the other boy in the car; there were very few people he didn’t watch like a hawk when they were in his Baby, but he felt that he could trust the other boy, and there were few times he didn’t listen to his gut.  
  
“Dinner Thursday night? Breadsticks? I’m--”  
  
“--I’m buying,” Kurt said, opening his right eye to look at Mike, a bit of a smug smirk on his face. “And let’s go somewhere other than Breadsticks; their salads are atrocious, and unfortunately a burger isn’t in my future any time soon while I’m on the Cheerios.”  
  
“How about Nina’s?”  
  
“That works. I’ll pick you up?”  
  
“I can pick you up if you want--”  
  
Kurt laughed, then put a hand over his mouth to stop himself. “Sorry, just... I don’t generally like giving people rides in my Baby. Especially after what happened when ‘Cedes liked me.”  
  
“I solemnly swear not to bust the window out yo’ car,” Mike said, his right hand over his heart and his left in the air.  
  
“I can’t believe you managed to say that with a straight face.”  
  
“I didn’t think you’d like my...” He raised an eyebrow and grinned. “straight face.”  
  
Kurt groaned. “I’m going to ignore that. Everybody gets one. Anyway, what I meant to convey through telling you about my protectiveness of Baby is that I’m extending my trust to you.  
  
“If you’re driving, I’m buying,” Mike said, crossing his arms over his chest. Kurt could see Mike’s leg bouncing at full speed, though, which kind of detracted from the firm posture.  
  
“Fine, that’s fair.” At least for you to think right now, Kurt thought as he opened his door. “Now let’s get inside, we’ve been out here for half an hour.” When he walked around to the back of his car after locking it, he cocked his head to the side when he saw Mike waiting for him there.  
  
“You might want to go on ahead, Mike. You probably don’t want to be seen walking into the school with the gay kid.”  
  
“Why not? I’m going to have to deal with this sooner or later, Kurt.” He reached out his hand for Kurt’s own, but Kurt kept his in his pockets. “I’m serious.”  
  
“I know. I just... I don’t think you know what you’re trying to get yourself into. And I want to wait until after our date to figure out where we stand and how we feel, before you do something stupid like out yourself to the entire school, okay?”  
  
Mike pursed his lips and nodded, shoving his hands into his pockets before immediately taking them back out.  
  
“Can I hold your bag, at least?”  
  
Kurt just groaned and started walking, shaking his head slightly.


	3. Chapter 3

It had been ten days since their first date. It did end up being at Nina’s, but when Kurt didn’t show up at 7:00 as they’d planned, Mike nearly bit through his lip. Kurt was nothing if not obsessively punctual. Okay, that was a lie - he was definitely a lot of other things. Adorable, for example. Fashionable would work, too.  
  
Anyway.  
  
At 7:05, he was admonishing himself for being so worried about Kurt being exactly on time.  
  
At 7:10, he moved from the porch to the living room, to double-check that his watch and phone weren’t running fast.  
  
At 7:15, he double-checked that his computer wasn’t as well.  
  
At 7:20, he had managed to convince himself that Kurt was just being fashionably late. He decided to spend the time second-guessing which shirt to wear; he decided, since it was a little chilly and he didn’t want to be too formal, that he would wear his green hoodie. It kind of reminded him of Kurt’s eyes, although he was never sure if they were quite green or blue.  
  
At 7:25, he had decided on his hoodie and was back at the porch, pointedly ignoring his mother’s tut-tutting at how worked up her son was, and hoping that she didn’t realize that “being picked up to work on an important project for, um, Spanish class I guess” was as see-through as the window that Kurt’s car still hadn’t appeared in.  
  
At 7:30, he finally caved and texted Kurt.  
  
Mike: hey where r u?  
  
As soon as he hit Send, he came to a sudden realization: Kurt didn’t really like him, and he hadn’t figured out how to bow out gracefully from their date, so he was just going to stand Mike up.  
  
Two minutes later, he had decided that there was no reason to believe that - obviously, Kurt was hurt. He had probably slipped in the shower, and hit his head on the tub, and if he wasn’t found soon he could be seriously hurt.  
  
Three minutes later, he was sitting on the couch, nervously playing with the two strings on his hoodie and tapping out a rapid rhythm with his feet -- so loudly, in fact, that he didn’t notice his phone go off.  
  
After another five minutes, he decided that what he needed to do was to call Kurt - if the brunet was going to stand him up, the least he could do was to tell it to him over the pho--  
  
Message Waiting  
  
“Oh.”  
  
Kurt: I still have half an hour, don’t I? I thought we agreed on 8:00.  
  
Mike: i thought we said 7  
  
Kurt: Oh, fuck all semblances of my life. Have you been wondering where I was for the past half hour?  
  
Mike: .....kinda  
  
Kurt: I’m almost ready. I’ll be there in 15.  
  
Mike: ur sure u want to go out right  
  
Kurt: Of course, Mr. Chang. I’ve been looking forward to this since you stalked me and my baby on Monday. Why wouldn’t I want to?  
  
Mike: i dunno  
  
Mike: just paranoid i guess  
  
The next he heard of Kurt was a quick text just saying “I’m here” as he pulled into the Changs’ driveway; Mike felt his phone buzzing as he grabbed the door handle, ready to fly out and into Kurt’s car.  
  
The actual date itself wasn’t really anything extraordinary, except by way of it being the first date, and between two people who liked each other more and more as the night went on. Ten days later, neither Mike or Kurt would remember what they ate (although both remembered what the other one ate, and neither would ever have admitted it), and neither of them would remember what they talked about (except for the shockingly low number of musicals Mike had seen - or in some cases, even heard of); what they remembered, and what really marked it as the beginning of their relationship was the mix-up of the time. Mike was enough of a storyteller - a skill honed by years of being outwardly silent, but inwardly imaginative - to really make an impression upon Kurt about how worried he was, even just five minutes after seven.  
  
And they never did figure out which one of them had the time wrong.


End file.
